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Show Me; Surprise Me by Shazzman
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Show Me; Surprise Me

Shazzman

A/N: Hi all! No, I haven't died. Just been very busy and with writer's block the size of the Amazonian rainforest. After months of inactivity I was hit by a plot bunny out of the blue (though not much of one, I admit) and had to write it and I don't want to wait until the arrival of HBP to post it. Therefore, any mistakes in this are my fault for it has not seen a beta's eyes. Please note, this story is not connected in any way to my other story, Revelation in an Invisibility Cloak, and it's nowhere near as long either. And of course, it's not H/Hr. I now duck tomatoes and rotten eggs. Be harsh if you hate it - it probably deserves it! But I hope you do like it. Thanks, of course, go to JK Rowling for the use of her characters in this smutlet, even though she has no idea who I am and that's likely to remain the case. And special thanks goes to the semi-colon. I love that grammatical item of genius! :D

Show Me; Surprise Me

What the bloody hell is going on?

One minute I'm heading towards class, in one heck of a hurry. I'm late and…which teacher's going to hex me? I can't even remember the class I was late to…

Anyway, one minute I'm hurrying to some class, thinking that I'll never hear the end of it from Hermione if she finds out I'm late again ("Really, Ron, you're Head Boy; how many times do I have to tell you have to set a good example?). Then, I see a flash of light, feel myself hitting the ground, and then…nothing.

Next thing I know, I wake up here, with a bit of a sore head.

Where's here? Wish I knew. Never seen this part of the castle before.

There's one small lamp flickering away, and I can see that the largish room's pretty much empty. The light doesn't reach far, and there are a lot of dark, almost liquid shadows. I'm in one of them, on stones that look like they were never introduced to Mr Mop and Mrs Bucket. No windows, as far as I can tell either. Little alarm bells start ringing in my head, to keep the dull ache at the back of it company.

I push myself off the floor, wobble a bit before getting my balance, and amble over to only door I can see.

"You won't be able to get out," a voice suddenly pipes up. "It's locked."

I swear I almost shit myself in fright. I whirl around and reach for my wand in my robes - but it's not there.

"I presume you're looking for this," says that voice again, and out of one of the dark corners my wand emerges tip first, but I can't see the hand holding it.

"'Ere!" I sputter. "Gimme that back!" And I stumble over to the corner, my fist clenched, ready to pound the living daylights out of this idiot, kind of forgetting, and really, not giving a shit that this whole situation is slightly surreal.

But before I can get halfway across the room, the voice cries "Petrificus totalus!" and with my own bloody wand the hidden stranger puts the full body-bind on me.

It's a weird sensation. I can't remember anyone ever using this spell on me successfully. Now I know what Neville felt all those years ago. You can hear, you can see, sometimes you stay upright and can feel the ground beneath your feet, but you can't make one sound, nor move a single muscle. It's terrifying and if you could, you'd scream like a baby.

"Sorry about that," says the voice. "But you understand, I had to."

No, not really, I don't understand at all.

And I understand even less when the stranger comes out of the corner into the lamplight, swinging my wand between her fingers, directing an enigmatic half-smile my way. If I could say anything I'd be bloody speechless anyway. It's no stranger. Why I didn't recognise the voice, I don't know.

Luna Lovegood suddenly waves my wand at me and releases me from the spell so fast I crumple to the stony floor in a heap. All I can do is lie there, my mouth opening and shutting like a flobberworm's and just as usefully too.

"Will I have to put it on you again?" Luna asks me, that mysterious but increasingly cheeky smile adorning her lips. Before I can answer my wand disappears somewhere on her person.

I can't speak. Some sort of strangled sound escapes my throat, but that's all. I suppose part of the reason I'm speechless, apart from being captured and hexed by this lunatic, is that even in this wacky situation I can see that she's gorgeous. Sexy as hell in her school robe, hanging open at the front revealing a plaid skirt that grazes her knees, the regulation school blouse with its collar open, barefoot, her limpid eyes gleaming in the gloom, what light there is falling gently across her face that's framed with impossibly long blonde hair…I never noticed it before. How stunning she looks now. How sensuous she is, standing there half out of her uniform…

I can't believe I'm noticing it now. Especially now!

"What the bloody hell's going on?" I blurt. No use beating around the bush. "What'd you do to me?"

She just smiles and cocks her head in a way that's endearing yet slightly unnerving.

"I would have thought that was obvious." She frowns like she's had a second thought. "Well…maybe not. You're not exactly the brightest spark-plug in the engine."

"I'm not the brightest…" I trail off, at first incensed that she's insulted me, but then realising that I don't understand how it's an insult. "The brightest thingy in the what? What's that mean?"

She sighs, smiling again and giving a slight shake of her head. "Never mind. My point exactly. I mean, it's taken you this long to notice."

"Notice what?" Is it just me or is she going off on tangents?

"See? Totally clueless. How you made Head Boy I don't know. Well," she reconsiders, and seems to eye me like I'm a quality side of beef hanging in a butcher's window. "Maybe it was on looks."

I suppose I'm flattered. Call me Mr. Shallow. But that still doesn't answer my question.

"Look Lovegood, I'm getting really pissed off now." I clamber to my feet painfully, square my shoulders and use my best Head Boy voice - the one that made my charming twin brothers laugh themselves silly before I started blasting WWW shelves into sawdust. "What is going on here? Why did you knock me out and bring me…wherever the hell this is?"

She doesn't seem to be intimidated in the least. Or even slightly awed. She just steps closer so she's only a few feet from me - and I catch her scent as though a slight breeze is blowing my way. It's not perfume, but Merlin it smells good. I can't really describe it, but I swear it could be bottled as a potent aphrodisiac. And up closer it's agonisingly clear that she's no longer weird little Luna Lovegood who freaked me out on the Hogwarts Express two years ago - she's definitely grown up since then. Her eyes aren't really dreamy anymore either - at least not now that they're fixed unwaveringly on mine. When she speaks it's in a hoarse murmur that sends a shiver down my spine.

"I brought you here because I wanted to show you something."

I feel my lower lip shuddering slightly as I open my mouth to rasp back, "Yeah? What?"

She steps closer now, so that we're only an inch apart. And the reality of all this hits me - I'm in a room with the strangest, but most alluring girl I've ever met, and she's so close to me that I could grab her and ravage her if I wanted and I'm not sure that she'd stop me and of course I still feel like I'm betraying Hermione even though we've never exchanged so much as a kiss on the cheek, the same way I felt when Lavender jumped me behind Hagrid's former hut about a month ago and effectively took my virginity and squashed it underfoot and never asked for anything afterwards thank Merlin and yes it was good but I still feel something for Hermione Christ I wish she'd see that I care for her and that I have for years but Oh My God this is Loony Lovegood standing here like nothing I've ever seen before and it's like she's fed me a bloody Love Potion I just want to fuck her -

But then, quicker than a Doxy she's turned away, sidled to her left and I'm sprawled on the ground, abrading my palms and knees on the rough flagstone as I reach to kiss nothing but empty air and topple quite undashingly.

"What the-?" I turn around and glare at her. She just stares nonchalantly back. "Are you out of your bloody tree? Or just really confused?" I growl at her.

She just cocks her head in that maddeningly cute manner. "I could ask you the same question."

"What?!" This is getting beyond a bloody joke now.

"You know, you should really forget about Hermione. I mean, it's not like you like her in that way, you just like the idea of liking her in that way."

Now I really am speechless. It's like she read my mind. Which, I realise, she probably did. This witch is a lot more formidable than any of us have ever imagined.

"Ronald? Isn't it true?" She's a persistent little blighter. "And anyway, I know for a fact that she can't keep her eyes off Harry."

Now that's news to me. And it frees my tongue in an indignant rage. I let her have it.

"You're unbelievable! You don't know me! You don't know Hermione! Actually, you know bugger all! Yeah you might be able to read minds - and who the hell gave you the fucking right to do that anyway?" I'm yelling now, and I can see spittle spraying from my mouth in an arc that sparkles in the lamplight, and I can hear my shouts reverberate in the large room, but I can see she's not reacting in the way I want her to react, not wincing; there's not any shame in her expression at having violated my mind and exposed secrets I rarely think consciously let alone speak out loud. But she's observing me like I'm an interesting specimen of some strange creature that only her and her father can see.

No matter, I'm on a roll and need to get some shit off my chest.

It's a funny thing, though. Even though I keep yelling, an part of my mind is analysing what she said, and I realise that she might just be right about Hermione - all these years I've been telling myself that one day she'd be with me and that we'd stop our bickering long enough to fall into each other's arms. Maybe other people expected it as well and that's the reason it's died, I don't know. Now that I think about it, the idea of us seems like a worse cliché than that of her and Harry getting together - although not by much. But yeah, maybe she's got a point.

But really, I don't care if it's the idea of being with Hermione that's been my main motivation for the interest. That doesn't give this insane bint the right to read my bloody mind!

"...you think you're so bloody smart, hey? Think you're so bleeding clever hitting a bloke with a spell while his back's turned and kidnapping him and then making a fool out of him by reading his mind and pretending to be interested in him, well you can just sod the fucking hell off - "

Suddenly, she's next to me. Kneeling beside me as, her small hands on my shoulders, holding me in place with surprising force. Her lips smothering mine, abruptly ending my diatribe in a kiss that feels like it should be illegal - all tongue and teeth and heat. Her pale blue eyes, so forceful, holding my shocked ones like they're in a vice. I can't help it - I kiss her right back, grabbing her face, enveloping it in my large hands and kissing her like I could steal her life force with my lips.

After an eternity Luna ends the kiss, pulling back with a wet, fleshy sound and stares at me. Panting, I gaze back at her, astonished, nonplussed. Horny. My dick's attempting to bust out through three layers of clothing, painfully pushing against my pants.

She licks her lips, almost a nervous twitch, and whispers so softly I can barely hear her above the roar of blood in my ears: "That's what I wanted to show you."

I hear my own voice reply, almost without volition: "Is that all you wanted to show me?"

I can see her chest heaving, small breasts straining against her blouse, and her eyelids droop almost lazily as she slowly, tentatively leans forward and plants those lips on mine again. A soft, sensuous kiss this time that drives me wild, even as I'm returning it and trying to emulate that searching tenderness that she's bestowing on me. But all I want to do is seize her and take her violently; that's the effect she's having on me. Funny that. A moment ago I wanted to kill her. After this, she can read my mind whenever the urge hits her, as long as she doesn't stop what she's doing to me. For about five seconds I'm absolutely disgusted with myself: is that all it takes to win me over after totally shafting me and humiliating me? A pretty face, some sexy utterances and a kiss?

But the self-disgust doesn't last long as it becomes clear that she's not finished. The kiss grows more demanding and desperate, and soon we're both out of control, grasping at each other's clothes, hands searching maniacally for naked skin. I find myself tearing off her robe and greedily ripping at the front of her blouse so I can run my hands all over her naked breasts and feel them heaving up as I use my mouth on her, following my hands. She's moaning and shuddering now, clenching my hair as I tongue her rock-hard nipples and she groans as I slide my tongue up her neck to growl in the hollow of her throat. She pulls herself from my grasp and with a strength I didn't know she possessed flips me onto my back somewhat painfully; before I can even gasp in pain she's grabbed the hem of my robe and torn it from neck to hem, scrabbling for my shirt and giving it the same treatment, buttons popping and flying dangerously in the air. All I can do is lay there with my mouth hanging open - again - while this amazing girl whom I still find hard to believe is Luna Lovegood ravages me the way I thought I'd be ravaging her.

Her eyes aren't lazily hooded now: I can see the heat and the lust light them up like embers as they meet mine again before her swollen lips fiercely attack my naked chest, and I've never seen a sexier sight - Luna, half naked, breasts swaying gently as she plants kisses all over my torso, following the snail-trail of red hair that disappears into the waistband of my pants. My breath catches in my throat as I realise where she's going, seconds before her hands are tugging frantically at my belt and before I know it, the one-eyed monster's out, standing proudly to attention.

She doesn't actually touch it yet, just views it appraisingly. All I can hear is my ragged breathing as she leans forward and, with agonising care and slowness, tongues the head with a feather-light touch and runs her tongue down the length, to the root, works her way back up and with a sudden intake of breath envelopes the entire head, sucking gently. It's all I can do not to come on the spot - my hands, shaking with tension and pleasure, reach forward to take her shoulders and stroke them in what I hope is an encouraging gesture. I hear myself babbling nonsensically, muttering and moaning as she works her mouth up and down my cock, only getting halfway before she's up again, getting faster and faster like she's done it all her life, and then her hands join in, one gripping the base and the other fondling my balls in such a perfect rhythm that a small part of my mind wonders how many times she's done this before, and to whom…but the other part of my mind is thinking of disgusting things like Snape in suspenders and stockings, feeling up Professor McGonagall, kissing Dumbledore…anything to stop myself from coming violently into her mouth. Lavender did this to me too, that bizarre afternoon behind the caretaker's hut - used her mouth on me and made me come on her smiling face, before she taught me to lick her to orgasm, and while that experience was amazing, this is…there are no words. Luna, compared to Lavender…even though I never entertained the notion of Luna in this way before, I know that now I'll not be able to think of her otherwise. And I'm thinking that if this is a once-in-a-lifetime event, I don't want to ruin it by having it end prematurely.

Just as I'm on the brink Luna pulls herself off with a loud slurp, gasping, strings of saliva trailing from her open mouth to my cock, and she starts sliding her hands up and down instead, which feels almost as good as when her mouth was doing it. In fact, I don't think I'll ever wank again, for it's a poor imitation of what she's doing to me. She smiles at me and says something that's nearly my undoing: "Your penis is beautiful, Ron. So big. I want it in me. Now."

Those words, so straightforward but at the same time so lustful, and the fact that she called me Ron - God, it's almost too much. Again, I have to fight not to explode, but somehow, heroically, I stop myself. Merlin knows how, especially as she gives the head of my prick one last, loving lick with that amazing tongue of hers.

I reach under her armpits and haul her up, mauling her mouth with mine the moment it gets near enough. Kissing her like I want to devour her, roughly, without restraint or reason. She doesn't seem to mind this; on the contrary, she's just as rough, clawing me with blunt but scratch-inducing fingernails, as she again rolls me roughly, this time so she's under me, sprawled out wantonly on the remains of our robes.

I kneel back and watch as she reaches underneath that illicitly short skirt and withdraws a wand…my wand, actually. Was it tucked into her panties? I feel myself growing even harder at the thought…she flings it aside and then reaches again and this time retrieves her panties, so quickly and effortlessly it's like she never had them on. They're not the sort of knickers I'd have expected Luna Lovegood to wear - lacy, sexy lingerie that's tiny to the point of being…well, pointless. Just a thin strip of fabric that she tosses in my direction, and which I grab out of the air one-handed, the other attached to my cock and jerking myself; even though I thought I'd never need to do it again, it's an automatic reaction to what I'm seeing before me. I drop the panties quickly as the sight of Luna fills my entire being. There's a mischievous grin on that otherwise inscrutable face while she spreads her legs, hitches up the skirt and shows herself to me in all her glory, and I groan as I see her finger stroke a clit so large it's almost like a signpost, and then another groan as she slides her finger into her cleft, her thumb rubbing against her clit. She's almost whining as she pleasures herself, and all I want to do to her what she did to me, make her felt what I felt. I bend forward, meaning to tease those inner folds with my lips, but she abruptly puts a hand on my face to stop me.

"No Ronald," she says. "Not now. Later. Just fuck me now. Please. I want your cock inside me."

"Oh god," I think I grate back. My head is swimming as I position the head of my prick at her entrance, almost passing out with the pleasure of feeling the softness, the wetness, her obvious arousal made even more obvious by the throaty groan of pleasure she gives. She wants me to hurry: I can tell by the way she reaches forward and grabs my shaft, tugging at it insistently.

That's the last straw. I can't be slow and tender, even if I wanted to. With what's almost a roar I grab her thighs, spread them even wider and shove my cock into her roughly, feeling the hot liquid centre of her wrap around me and hearing her scream and before I can stop she's again encouraging me to keep going, faster, harder.

I briefly thank Lavender for the excellent lesson in sexual depravity and, pushing myself up onto my palms, set up a fast pumping rhythm, fucking Luna relentlessly as she squirms and moans beneath me, and I feel her hands on my arse pulling me into her. I look down, sweat dripping off my nose into that gorgeous face that's twisted in ecstasy, let my eyes roam down to where we're joined, seeing her hips writhing and bucking underneath that skirt which she's still wearing. I feel her legs clamp around my waist and pull me even closer, so that I have to work hard to move my hips but Merlin it's worth the effort, feeling her jerk and writhe against me, and I can feel her hard little clit bumping into me and her cries of pleasure and my low grunts as I drive myself into her.

Almost too soon, she freezes and gasps, a high-pitched strangled sound that doesn't stop. I feel her legs tighten even more and her eyes roll back into her head as she thrashes about even faster, and she's yelling in my ear that she's coming, and that it's so good, and all I know is that that's enough to send me over the edge too. It's like a small explosion in my groin that rapidly takes over my whole body and blots out the entire world; I've never felt anything so intense. As we both come together, giving and taking so much pleasure that it doesn't seem real, I feel a sudden, powerful burst of affection for this girl with whom I've just had the most unbelievable experience of my life. This girl who I hardly know, whom I've hardly even noticed, but whom I'm not sure I could do without now.

Next thing I know, we've separated from one another and we're lying on our backs, breathing heavily, but holding hands like it's the most natural thing in the world. I look over at her, and she's so fucking beautiful I almost burst into tears, and her smell's all over me, and she's glowing and smiling back at me and all I want to do is hold her tightly and never let her go.

She speaks first; a good thing too, because I wouldn't have been able to put two words together let alone an entire sentence. But she says: "Thank you, Ronald, for being my first."

I can't believe it. Her first?

"Your what?" I blurt out.

She just smiles beatifically.

"But - but…" I splutter. "You're so…I mean, you were so…you know, you…um…"

"I knew exactly what to do?" she asks gently.

"Yeah! It's like you'd done it for years. Oh shit…I mean…" Well done, Weasley. Open mouth, insert foot up to kneecap.

She just laughs softly. "Yes. It's amazing what books can teach you. Not to mention practise with various objects." She smiles naughtily and I feel myself blush…then I feel myself grow hard at the images that stampede through my horny teenage mind.

She's smiling gently as she looks down and sees my rising erection. "Hmm…I see you can probably keep up with me," she teases. I just grin shyly and reach out to pull her into my arms.

But she's too quick: she slides away from me and gracefully gets to her feet.

"I have to go now," she murmurs. At least she's looking at me, and it's not like she's all of a sudden ashamed, but…I can't really read her expression.

"Luna," I hesitate. "Um…what's going to happen now?" I'm back to confused, bewildered Ron.

"Well. That depends on you, doesn't it?" she smiles slightly as she bends and reaches into a pocket of her shredded robes and pulls out her own wand. Why she needed mine I don't know. With a wave and a quick "Reparo clothes!" our ruined garments whirl up into the air and float back down, completely mended. She starts to pull her clothes on, and eyes me curiously. "Do you want to see Loony Lovegood again?"

I wince, remembering that she can read minds…can she? I ask her before I can stop myself.

She cocks her head in that enticing way that drove me mad before. "Well, sort of," she admits. "I can read feelings, not really thoughts. I can't really explain it. If only you could have read mine all those years ago," she finishes wistfully, and starts buttoning up her blouse. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Do you want to see me again?"

"Y-yes. Of course!" I curse inwardly at my stammer. I don't want to sound desperate…but I don't want to sound too standoffish…shit, I just want her. How the hell did she do this to me?

"Well. I suppose I can expect you to surprise me, then?" She shrugs her robe on, smiles at me still lying on the ground half naked, and crouches to kiss me tenderly, with a hit of the passion we shared earlier. She giggles as I try to grab her and pull her to the ground and, evading my clutches again, she makes her way to the door.

"Wait! Luna! Surprise you?"

She stands at the door, looks back, and frowns. "You know what I mean," she reproaches me gently. "I look forward to it. Oh, and by the way, the door wasn't really locked." She grins cheekily at me and is gone.

I quickly pull on my clothes, remembering somehow to summon my wand that she flung aside in the heat of things, and rush to the door, flinging it wide and stumbling across the threshold. I find myself in the corridor where the Room of Requirement is, and sure enough, the room I was in was exactly that. Luna's Room of Requirement. But the girl herself is gone, disappeared just as the door to the Room disappears into the wall.

As I slowly make my way down the hall to the Head Boy's chambers, I consider all that lies before me. Why Luna took so long to express herself. Why it took such a drastic action for me to notice her. Why she apparently has a fondness for Spartan cells as places for lovemaking. And how I can surprise her in such a way that losing her virginity will look like a little stroll that she took through the Hogwarts gardens.

And…how I can explain my absence to Snape, whose class I should have been in all this time, as evidenced by the thunderous look on his face as he storms down the corridor towards me.

And I have to stop myself laughing as I imagine him in stockings and suspenders, for I don't think he'd really understand the funny side.

*fin*